


Two Heavens

by gittarackuur



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 18:36:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16897836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gittarackuur/pseuds/gittarackuur
Summary: “This is what you consider intimacy?” Hisoka chortles, prying Illumi indirectly.





	Two Heavens

Illumi has never let another person touch his hair. 

Not since he was a child; he won’t, refusing to trust any hands but his own. Over the years he crafts a nightly routine, brushing it out meticulously before treating it with whatever moisturizer is the current best. The routine becomes longer with each passing year. 

When he moves in with Hisoka, he slowly starts sharing parts of his life. The few he does share are fine; none that are terribly intimate (save the sex, although he denies intimacy quickly), but still something to allow his partner a glimpse into what Illumi is like. One month turns into three years. Illumi finds himself in front of the mirror, wide tooth comb in hand. He makes to brush out the ends when Hisoka’s hand covers his own. 

“Let me do it,” Hisoka says. Illumi whips, body tense. 

“No.”

Hisoka raises an eyebrow. “Afraid I’ll cut it?”

Illumi scowls, retreating from Hisoka as far as the vanity allows. 

“I don’t know. Maybe,” he replies shortly, knuckles white around the comb handle. 

“Illu baby,” Hisoka soothes, and Illumi finds himself winding up further. 

“No, Hisoka,” he says firmly. “I’m not...I can’t.”

Hisoka reaches a hand up, fussing with a strand of Illumi’s hair. “Come on. You let me touch it all the time. And I pull it constantly during sex.” Illumi narrows his eyes. 

“That’s not the same,” he bites, standing from the chair. “I touch and pull your hair too, and it’s different. Plus I brush it out when we’re done anyways. This is different.” 

Hisoka recognizes the fight coiling in Illumi; despite his voracious desire to continue, he puts both hands up defensively. “Okay, Illu,” he replies, defeated. “I’ll leave it be.”

Illumi nods slightly, nudging Hisoka out of the bedroom before shutting the door. 

-

Illumi finds Hisoka’s incessant pestering to brush his hair irritating at best. Every night he asks, and every night Illumi says no. They bicker over it, and Illumi becomes exhausted with the disruption of his nightly routine. 

One night, he caves. 

Illumi is spent, covered in blood, and hurting. The job had been an ambush from the get-go, and Illumi had to work twice as hard for half the pay. His back is stiff, and his right arm has the beginnings of a large, multi-handed bruise. He strips in the bathroom slowly, body aching from the excessive work. Hisoka stays put in the bedroom, watching Illumi’s calculated movement to avoid unnecessary pain. Turning the shower on, Illumi can hear Hisoka fussing in the closet; in a moment of weakness, he calls over his shoulder. 

“Come here,” he motions for Hisoka with his hand, and Hisoka is quick to abide. 

“Yes, my love?” he replies, and Illumi narrows his eyes. 

“Don’t test me. Just get in the shower with me,” he snaps, and Hisoka chuckles. 

“Fine by me.”

Illumi sticks a hand under the stream, testing the heat of the water before stepping in. Hisoka is right at his heels, closing the shower door behind them. The water slams into Illumi’s back, and he hisses at the sensation. Hisoka steps behind him, blocking the majority of the stream. Illumi scowls, turning slightly to look at him. 

“Just relax,” Hisoka purrs, wrapping his arms around Illumi’s waist. He kisses his shoulder gently, and the heat between their bodies slips under Illumi’s skin. 

“I’m trying,” he says, weaker than he’d like, “but you’re blocking the water.”

Hisoka ghosts his fingers up Illumi’s ribs, kissing his cheek tenderly. 

“I heard you hiss. You can’t hide that kind of shit from me.” 

Illumi’s scowl deepens, but he leans back into Hisoka’s hold. The irritation, aggravation, and disappointment Illumi had been holding since returning from the job slowly drain out of him. He closes his eyes as steam billows around them, and Hisoka rocks their bodies ever so slightly. 

A sudden grip of vulnerability seizes Illumi. An ugly, foreign feeling that claws into his sides and climbs up into his throat. It makes him feel tight, tense; the urge to bolt blazes through his legs. Illumi switches the channel, rewiring his fear into lust. He turns quickly in Hisoka’s arms. Hisoka raises an eyebrow, and Illumi grabs his face. Their teeth click when their mouths connect, and Hisoka draws back with surprise. Illumi ignores it, pursuing Hisoka until he feels the recoil of Hisoka hitting the shower wall. Illumi slides his hands from Hisoka’s jaw to the back of his head, gripping the curling strands of hair, and presses flush against his body. Hisoka groans into the kiss, putting his hands on Illumi’s hips. 

“Whatever’s gotten into you is hot,” Hisoka comments, grinning against Illumi’s mouth. 

“Stop,” Illumi bites Hisoka’s lip hard enough to draw blood, and he licks it away before it drips onto the tile. Hisoka smoothes the mass of wet hair down Illumi’s back, squeezing his ass in the process, and tips his head back to allow Illumi better access. Illumi makes short work of marking Hisoka’s throat. A full bloom of purple and blue bruises adorn neck, and Illumi kisses down his sternum until his knees hit the wet tile. 

Illumi puts a hand on Hisoka’s hip, trying to squash the lust spiraling out of his belly. He takes Hisoka’s cock in his free hand, humming softly as he twists his wrist to move his hand up the shaft. He looks up at Hisoka, licking the precum that gathers at the slit. 

“Fuck,” Hisoka exhales the word slowly, running his hands through Illumi’s wet hair. He tips his head back, canting his hips up toward Illumi’s mouth. Illumi hums softly in reply, the sound traveling straight through Hisoka’s cock to the base of his stomach. Desire pools in Illumi, white hot and sharp, and travels through his belly into his legs. Illumi slides his hand up the back of Hisoka’s thigh, closing his eyes as he takes the length of Hisoka’s cock down into his mouth. 

“Illu baby,” Hisoka says lowly, thrusting into Illumi’s mouth. His cock hits the back of his throat; an invitation that Illumi graciously accepts. Illumi tips his head slightly, relaxing his jaw to take Hisoka all the way down. Hisoka guides him, hands on the back of his head, and Illumi moans Hisoka’s name quietly. The feeling makes the hair on the back of Hisoka’s neck stand, and he gasps as he feels the slow, steady breath from Illumi on his groin. He looks down at Illumi, stroking his thick hair away from his face. It fans out along Illumi’s shoulders, cascading down like a second shadow. Illumi looks up slowly through his lashes, eyes dark and endless. 

Hisoka allows himself to fall into them. 

Illumi bobs his head rhythmically, hands cradling the back of Hisoka’s thighs. Hisoka speaks in a never-ending stream of consciousness, all praise and adoration for Illumi. Illumi basks in it, redirecting it to the failed job, and pretends for a fleeting moment that he hadn’t royally fucked up. He swallows around Hisoka’s cock; an acknowledgement of the shower of affection Hisoka is giving him. Hisoka’s body jerks in response, and he grips Illumi’s hair. 

“I’m close,” he moans breathlessly. Illumi brings his hands to Hisoka’s inner thighs, and drags his nails down. Hisoka hisses, thrusting in as deep as Illumi will allow. 

“Touch yourself,” Hisoka’s voice is low, guttural as he watches Illumi through heavy eyes. 

Illumi abides by the demand, placing a hand on his cock. His thighs twitch in relief, and he strokes himself at the same pace that he sucks. Hisoka’s trembling, and Illumi catches the glint of sweat along the long line of Hisoka’s throat. 

“Illumi,” he moans loudly, and Illumi relishes in the way Hisoka’s body seizes. Everything tightens, and he comes. Illumi continues to bob his head, working Hisoka through the orgasm. It comes in long spurts, and Illumi swallows everything down. Hisoka watches him, and Illumi doesn’t miss the flash of possession that travels across his eyes. Illumi comes then, moaning on Hisoka’s cock as he jerks himself through it. Cum splatters on the wall, the tile, on Hisoka’s knees and shins. The orgasm rips through Illumi, tearing him up the middle as it spills out of him. Hisoka strokes his hair slowly, rocking the head of his cock shallowly in Illumi’s mouth. Illumi pulls off, tendrils of saliva and come bridging the gap between Hisoka’s cock and his lips. Illumi’s breath comes out in short, shallow bursts, and he sits back on his knees. 

Hisoka runs a hand through his hair, sliding it down along his jaw to cradle Illumi’s face. Illumi stares at him, and Hisoka loses himself in Illumi’s vast, personal space. 

“ _Moshe_ ,” Illumi says softly, sweetly; an involuntary vulnerability in the middle of his high, and Hisoka runs a thumb along Illumi’s bottom lip. Hisoka pulls it down with his thumb, and Illumi runs his tongue along the tip. Hisoka’s smile is small, a thousand emotions playing on his face. Illumi moves to suck on Hisoka’s fingers, and Hisoka responds. He pushes his middle and ring fingers into Illumi’s mouth, coated with saliva and come. Illumi sucks them clean, pulling off quickly and wipes the back of his mouth. 

He gets up off the tile, knees aching, and leans into Hisoka to kiss him. Hisoka holds him close, running his hands up Illumi’s back, and Illumi shivers under him. 

“I’m cold,” he says, all the affection and admiration gone from his voice. Hisoka nods slightly, turning the water off and steps out. He hands Illumi a towel for his body and for his hair. He dries himself off, watching Illumi dry himself off. He hands Illumi clothes to sleep in, and Illumi makes quick work of dressing himself. 

 

Hisoka has enough sense to wait until Illumi is done, watching him from the door. Illumi kicks the wet towels to the corner of the bathroom, and he steps into their bedroom. His hair is still a matted mess, and he sits at the vanity Hisoka built him two years ago. Illumi grabs his comb, and winces as he lifts the brush to his hair. 

Hisoka intervenes. 

“Give me the comb,” he states, reaching for Illumi’s hand. Illumi shies away, trying to cover the whine that follows.

“I’m fine,” Illumi lies. Hisoka scowls. 

“Give me the fucking comb, Illumi,” he orders. Illumi, finally defeated from the day, gives in. He chides himself internally, watching Hisoka in the mirror. He should never show this level of weakness, this level of vulnerability. His relationship is never supposed to evolve in this way, but he hurts. His body, mind, and pride are exhausted. Illumi does not feel the urge to pick up the gauntlet with Hisoka. 

Hisoka starts from the bottom of his hair, crouching down slightly to work out the knots. He hums softly as he works through Illumi’s heavy hair, brush strokes getting longer with each passing minute. Illumi finds himself relaxing, leaning back into the touch. Hisoka strokes back stray hairs from Illumi’s forehead, dragging the comb from the roots to the tip. Illumi closes his eyes, body unwinding underneath Hisoka’s touch. 

“Why did you fight me on this for so long?” Hisoka asks, voice soft. Illumi shrugs, his heart tight over Hisoka’s tone. He hates this feeling, and he looks at Hisoka in the mirror. Hisoka, focused on the task in front of him, wears concern across his face. It makes Illumi’s chest a little tighter, and the truth comes forward despite the lie his tongue wants to make. 

“It’s...it’s too intimate.”

Hisoka stops, completely caught off guard by Illumi’s response. He picks up right away, trying to cover the sudden stall. 

“This is what you consider intimacy?” Hisoka chortles, prying Illumi indirectly. 

Illumi looks down at his hands; they’re calloused and burned, an eerie reflection of his exterior. 

“I...I’ve never let another person do this. Not since I was a child,” Illumi replies. Hisoka stops, setting the brush down and runs his fingers through the thick strands. 

“Oh,” Hisoka replies gently, separating Illumi’s hair into three strands. He begins to braid from the very top, working meticulously until his hands cramp. He ignores the ache, weaving the strands until he reaches the bottom. He presents a bow from thin air, tying it around the base of the braid. 

“I’m honored that you trust me with such a precious treasure,” Hisoka says, putting his hands on Illumi’s shoulders. Illumi admires Hisoka’s work in the mirror, ghosting his hand over the braid. 

“I love it,” Illumi murmurs, pulling the strand over one shoulder. Hisoka smiles; it’s genuine, and softens the corners of his eyes. 

Illumi holds it close, reveling in knowing that he is the only one to ever see it. 

“Well if you stop guarding your hair, I’ll do it more often,” Hisoka says, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Illumi’s shoulder. Illumi hums softly, tipping his head slightly. Hisoka takes the invite, peppering kisses up the side of lIlumi’s neck. He continues along his jaw line before cradling Illumi’s chin in one hand. 

Illumi sighs softly, turning around to press his lips against Hisoka’s. He drapes his arms across Hisoka’s shoulders, cradling the back of his head in his hands. 

“I love you,” Hisoka whispers, pushing the words between them onto Illumi’s lips.

Illumi pulls away slightly to stare at Hisoka, his own eyes half lidded; they catch the glint of the city, a prism reflecting a thousand shades. 

Illumi, the manipulative hypnotist; in love with his puppet Hisoka, they dangle precariously on loose strings. 

He allows the shy smile that follows.

**Author's Note:**

> for jagger, the crown jewel.


End file.
